


The Problem with LMDs

by Grimmalie



Series: The Adventures of Little Coulson [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crossdressing, Established Relationship, LMD, Little Coulson - Freeform, M/M, Mild Angst, Shrinking, Tiny Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmalie/pseuds/Grimmalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson is currently 5 inches tall, which renders him incapable of field work.</p><p>Enter the LMD</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Problem with LMDs

Phil peered up at the LMD and crossed his arms. It had been carefully manufactured to look just like him. JUST. Like. Him. Right down to some unfortunate wrinkles on his neck and around his mouth. He didn’t consider himself a vain man, but when your flaws were several hundred times larger than you, it was hard not to take notice.

“I don’t think I like it,” Phil ground out.

“Yeah, well, you may look like a SHIELD agent again, but you still can’t pick up a gun,” Stark said, patting the LMD’s arm. Clint snorted behind him.

“I still can’t believe you got someone to make you a miniature suit,” he positively cackled. Phil kept his expression carefully neutral.

“I wasn’t about to wear a Barbie dress into the office, Barton.”

“I’d have paid to see that,” Stark said to himself before glancing thoughtfully at the LMD.

“You may not dress my Life Model Decoy in a dress, Stark,” Phil ground out.

“Hey, I made him.”

“And SHIELD bought him.”

“Fine. Fury can dress him up in a dress. Doesn’t matter who does it, as long as it’s got a floral print.”

Phil could just feel Clint leering at him. In the past few days since Phil’s dramatic reaction to Pym particles, and the subsequent diagnosis that he would be stuck this way until further notice, Clint had managed to acquire more than a few doll dresses and, in the privacy of their apartment, Phil wore them. It was one thing to let his boyfriend grin at him while they watched Dog Cops together. It was quite another to be seen by all of SHIELD like that. The problem was, while Nick probably wouldn’t put the LMD in a dress, Phil had little doubt he would put him in a bright, polyester shirt or something equally garish and send him walking around, oblivious to the fact that this was not the sort of thing the real Phil would condone.

He was going to have to keep a list of everyone who pissed him off while he was stuck like this so he could exact revenge later.

“Anyway,” Stark said, tapping the back of the LMD’s head. “We should have him up and running in a day or so. I’m setting his default to take orders from you, Agent.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Phil said honestly. 

Stark hooked the LMD up to a charger and surveyed his work proudly for a moment. It really was exceptionally lifelike. Cruelly so, in Phil’s opinion, but if they could send it out into the field in his place, his life would be infinitely easier.

“I’ll just leave you to get acquainted,” he said, taking his leave. Of course, there wasn’t much to acquaint himself with. The LMD was still on sleep mode, so all Phil could do was sit and stare up at the giant that was apparently the size he was supposed to be. It was something like an out of body experience, except he wasn’t floating above it like all the people on those tv specials said they did.

Clint rose and rapped his knuckles on the side of the LMD’s head. It made a soft sound, like flesh and bone, rather than the clang of metal Phil had expected.

“At least this way we won’t have to worry about you getting killed in the field,” Clint remarked. “Again.”

“I was only mostly dead,” Phil replied absently.

“Yeah, well, I thought you really were dead,” Clint insisted. “Let me tell you, it gave me a real case of the blue balls.” His expression grew pensive, his eyes sweeping up and down the LMD. “Hey do you think…”

Phil winced. It couldn’t be easy for Clint, either. With Phil shrinking down to the height of a coffee mug, sex was more or less off the menu. Of course, if they really wanted to get creative, they could probably find ways, but Phil just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt helpless, terrified even, at the prospect of being manhandled by someone so much bigger than him, and he wasn’t about to attempt to go near Clint’s cock. As angry and upset as he was about this situation, he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t fair to Clint, either.

Knowing this allowed Phil to hesitate a whole half a second before snapping,

“No!”

Clint pretended to pout at that.

“Spoil sport.”

“No robot sex,” Phil said very firmly.

“Aw, c’mon. I’ll let you watch.” He waggled his brows.

“Tempting. But no. I don’t think LMDs were designed for that, anyway.”

Clint sighed dramatically and crossed his arms.

“Fine, fine. But if our positions were reversed, I’d totally let you bang robo-me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well, NOW I won’t. You won’t let me bang robo-you.” He reached forward to nudge playfully at Phil’s chest with one knuckle. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your office, help you fill out reports. Get some grub from the cafeteria. It’ll be a real date.”

Phil smiled a little at that.

“Tempting, but I think I actually do want to stay here for a bit.”

Clint arched his brow.

“You sure?”

Phil shrugged.

“Just give me a few minutes alone with the guy. Then come and get me.”

Clint hesitated. In the last few days, he’d basically become Phil's personal bodyguard and means of transportation. The only time he even left Phil alone was when Phil was in his office, and even then only for an hour or so at a time. Twice now he’d managed to beg Phil into joining him at the archery range, just because he didn’t like the idea of being too far away from him for too long.

Clint shifted from foot to foot, but nodded tersely.

“You’ve got your earpiece,” he insisted, gesturing at the tiny device. Of course, it was almost as big as Phil was, but he was still capable of operating it.

“I think I’ll be okay for five minutes,” Phil told him. “Go get some coffee. I’m relieving you long enough for coffee.”

“You just want me to get you some coffee.”

“’You saw right through my brilliant plan,” Phil said dryly.

Clint smiled and gave Phil another nudge, and Phil responded by dropping a quick kiss onto his knuckle. He wasn’t sure how well Clint could even feel it, but the archer grinned all the same and headed out of the lab, leaving Phil alone with his LMD.

For a moment, he didn’t look at it. He paced around the cluttered lab table, his hands folded behind his back because whoever had made this suit had forgotten to add pockets. He kicked at a massive pencil. He rubbed the sole of his show in a huge, gummy coffee stain. He stared at some blueprints for a minute before he realized they were too damn big for him to figure out what they were supposed to be, anyway. At last, he turned around and sank down onto a fat, rubber eraser, resting his arms on his knees as he stared up at… himself.

He looked tired. It was funny how he’d never noticed it before, but the strain of too many long nights and too many moments of panic and too damn many friends lost showed on his once youthful face. Maybe that was why this happened to him; to remind him, in a way an actual near death experience somehow couldn’t, that he was not invincible. 

The LMD looked tired, but it wouldn’t be. What it lacked in imagination and free will, it would make up for in a tireless effort to get the job done. Phil couldn’t ask for more.

“You take care of them, all right?” he said softly. The LMD said nothing, but Phil didn’t even feel like an idiot for speaking to an offline machine. Some small part of him hoped that it would process what he was saying and take it as a command. “I’m no use right now. I’m five inches tall. Can’t even lift a file. I bet Hill’s having a field day. She never did like that I made a point of taking Nick’s side on just about everything… the point is, I’m too damn small to be any good. But I need to be good, because I’ve got agents counting on me. Not just the superheroes. Regular flesh-and-blood scientists and analysts and field agents who need me to do my job. And I’ve got to be there for all of them.

“I don’t know how sophisticated your programming is. But let me put it to you this way. If it comes down to you or one of yours, you pick the scientist or the analyst or the agent. Every time. If it comes down to you or catching the bad guy, you catch the bad guy. You do whatever you’ve got to do to get the job done. That’s what it is to be a SHIELD agent.”

He stared up at the LMD’s expressionless face and wondered if that was what he looked like when he was sleeping. If it would fool any of the junior agents. If it would be able to sufficiently take his place, or if he’d feel a staggering guilt for every time the LMD failed to get the job done. The job he should have been doing.

“I’m not a SHIELD agent right now,” he said softly. “Not really. So I need you to be. You’ve got your job cut out for you, buddy.”

Clint strode back into the lap, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand. Phil would probably have some, too, out of a miniature porcelain teacup Rogers had ordered the second he heard Phil was stuck this way. Clint glanced between Phil and the LMD before setting the mug down on the lab table. Phil couldn’t help staring at it. For the last few nights, he’d actually had to bathe in an old coffee mug at home. When he was back to his normal size, he doubted he’d ever be able to look at a coffee mug the same way again.

“You and Data here have a good chat?” Clint asked, knocking on the LMD’s head again.

“Yeah. Come on. We’ve got paperwork to do.”

“And crappy food to eat.” Clint lowered his hand so Phil could climb onto it, settling against the heel of his palm, which had become a familiar seat for him. Life went on. He was just going to have to roll with the punches.


End file.
